


The Obligations of Lordship

by hope91



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Dwarf Courting, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Established Sexual Relationship, F/M, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Marriage Proposal, On Hiatus, Post-War of the Ring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-04-29 07:16:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5119751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope91/pseuds/hope91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The friendship between the Lords of Aglarond and Ithilien is legendary - so much so that it's rumored they're more-than-friends. </p><p>But the duties of leadership beckon and trump all. So it can hardly be a surprise when Gimli is asked to marry for political reasons, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Angela](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angela/gifts), [telemachus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/telemachus/gifts).



> For Angela - this Legolas is (vaguely) inspired by her sexually-experienced one (in Bound to You). More importantly gifted to her because I love her stories, her writing, and her general online demeanor.
> 
> For telemachus - I love to gush about telemachus! Same as the above :-)
> 
> Happy (early!) Holidays! (will hopefully have this finished by the holidays, not sure if either of you will like the premise, but it's the thought that counts, I suppose!)
> 
> EDIT - on hiatus due to RL events

_Glittering Caves, Fourth Age 8_

“Hush,” Gimli whispered as he stilled himself. Legolas shivered as beard and calloused fingertips floated across his chest, the dwarf’s lips tracing a well-traveled path down the elf’s neck.

Legolas moaned as he rocked upward, desperate to draw Gimli deeper.

Gimli couldn’t resist, and resumed his fast, hard pace. Legolas’ loud groans and sighs filled the bedchamber again, but this time, Gimli lost any desire to help him quiet his sounds.

“Not bad,” Legolas said afterward in a most understated way, contentedly stretching his long form and earning himself a friendly swat in the air.

Gimli then drew his hand through the elf’s hair, over his glistening form, and felt himself harden again. “Unfortunate that you must depart for Edoras in an hour.”

Just as Legolas moved to sit astride him – a final farewell, so to speak – the elf heard a faint, insistent knock on the outer chamber door.

Gimli groaned, his desire thwarted. “It must be news of the contingent from the East – arriving early.” He stood, pulling on his clothes, and then moved to kiss Legolas regretfully after the elven lord finished doing the same.

“You look a mess,” Legolas said fondly, smoothing Gimli's fly-away hair as well as he was able. “I’ll see you again soon enough.” He tried to keep his tone light - while _this_ was nice, he missed Gimli's steadfast companionship far more.

“Aye, surely you will, for I have the trip to the Shire awaiting me, and I will convince you yet to join me,” Gimli said, equally as fond. Then they each moved to leave – Gimli through the outer door, Legolas through the hidden passage Gimli had crafted for this very purpose.

Neither had any desire for the full details of their friendship to be known, regardless of the rumors.

Legolas paused when he crossed the threshold, glancing at Gimli’s departing form before closing the door.

And he smiled. Yes, he'd make sure to take that trip to the Shire.

****

_Edoras, several days later  
_

“Fare you well on the journey homeward.” Éomer-King clasped Legolas’ arm firmly, and then moved to give his sister a final embrace.

“Perhaps we shall see you in Ithilien soon,” Éowyn mounted her horse, and there was no mistaking the command in her voice regardless of her casual words.

“Indeed. And I shall bring the dwarf lord with me. Unfortunate he couldn’t travel with you here. I’ve not seen him in several months.”

“His work thus far in the caves in simply without words,” Éowyn said, for she’d spent part of her visit there. “Even more so, if it were possible, than his refurbishing of the Deep. Wouldn’t you agree, Legolas?”

Both brother and sister weren't surprised when he didn’t respond, seeming to be lost in thought, a strange smile upon his face.

They looked at one another and rolled their eyes, fondly amused - and happy that they held his friendship, for this was a side of the elf not many were permitted to see.

“Legolas?”

“My apologies,” he said, trying to bring himself back to the present.

"Mmm." Éomer swallowed his friendly retort - the King of the Mark and his sister being one of the very few that knew the truth of the elf and dwarf's relationship.

They departed, Éowyn motioning their entourage to continue to keep their distance to provide a degree of privacy. “Is everything well with you?”

Legolas' eyes were blazing, his smile wide - content. "Very well, thank you."

"You've no need to say it," he said in response to her cautious regard, his expression more serious as he began listing the warnings she'd voiced to the both of them. "You would not see either of us hurt. Time and again, situations such as ours do not end well. One of us will fall for the other. One of us will want more. Or, we will be together, intimately, and instead of - "

"Enough!" she said with a laugh. "Please spare me the sordid details, for I've no desire to think of either of you in that way!"

They rode onward, talking of other things - yet even as she hid it, Éowyn could not shake her sense of vague foreboding.


	2. Chapter 2

_Glittering Caves, three months later_

"Is it true, then?" The dwarrowdam swirled the ale in her tumbler, leaning casually on her chair. In the three months that she'd been here, engaged in talks to improve strained relations between the houses of East and West, she'd enjoyed the company of her Western counterpart - and he hers.

Gimli simply raised an eyebrow.

Halda glanced around the large room - and found it empty.  Still, she leaned forward to whisper, "that you're bonded to the elf who journeyed with you during the War?"

"So the rumors say." He smiled, then savored a long drink - he greatly enjoyed the ale the Stonefoot representatives had brought with them.

"Lady Halda, I can assure you the rumors are highly overrated."

It was an utter understatement, yet his standard reply - truth, in its own way, for those who assumed they had secretly married in the manner of elves. He and Legolas had a clear arrangement, mutually suitable - friends with benefits, nothing more, nothing less. Free to enjoy the company of others.

Both of them did - and Gimli was tempted to enjoy hers. She was fierce and bold, keenly intelligent - but he knew it would be a terrible idea.

Some of the strained relations between their respective houses could be traced back to similar sorts of - _relations_.

"So you're free, then?" She wondered if there was more to this - the rumors about the Lords of Aglarond and Ithilien surely had their basis in something. Yet she also knew by now that this dwarf wouldn't lie to her - not outrightly so.

But she couldn't dismiss one not-small tidbit. The elves of the East had told her, quite clearly, that for elves of the West sex was marriage. And so perhaps it was that the rumors of _more-than-friendship_ between Legolas and Gimli had been false.

"Aye, my heart is not bound to another." He leaned forward to study her more closely.

“I have a proposal for you then, of sorts," she said.

His body thrummed. Perhaps the liquor was going to his head. Yes, he'd enjoy taking her to bed - and if she was about to ask what he thought she was....

“What we have treatised thus far does much to strengthen both our houses and our relations. Yet I have come to realize that our work thus far may not be entirely adequate.”

“And?” he asked, slightly disappointed.

"Let me be blunt." She quelled her regret, having always imagined that what she'd say next would be the product of love and romance - not politics - regardless of how likable this dwarf was.

"Lord Gimli, it would be fruitful to consider aligning our houses in marriage."

"Aye," he said with a smirk. "And which of your dwarves is now besotted with one of mine - or vice versa?"

"Nay," she replied. "There is no besotting in what I suggest - not in the sense of love, or even true attraction - at least not at the moment. Perhaps we could make the reunion of our houses come to fruition - at last. It would do much for our people. A political alliance is what I propose - marriage - between you and I."

Had he lesser manners, he would have spit out his ale.

As it was, his mouth dropped open - he felt partially flattered, and partially - utterly - rejected.

Then he recovered from the wound to his pride. A dwarf's contemplation of marriage was a serious matter - and entirely exhausting, courting customs being as intricate as they were.

"Let's study this closely, then," he said, partly in deference to tradition, partly due to his respect for her sharp mind. "Tell me more."

****

Leagues upon leagues away, Legolas was engaged in a study of a different sort.

He was buried deep within the elleth below him, impossibly hard as his lips caressed her breasts - growing even harder as he was thrust into from behind.

Unlike when he was with Gimli, he saw no need to be quiet - and their respective moans drifted into the forest beyond his flet.

He was overcome - it was _so_ good, _too_ good.

"Gimli!" he shouted as he came, and the ellon taking him from behind stopped.

"Would you have me pretend I am the dwarf?" the ellon whispered into his Lord's ear as he began moving again, his aim perfect. "Is this how he - mines you?"

It relaxed some of the embarrassment Legolas felt - there was no mockery here, but rather a sincere desire to give him what he seemed to want - or need.

"I - "

"Hmm, Lord Gimli," the elleth beneath Legolas said, moving her hands over her fine form, "I would have your cock next, to see if dwarves are indeed as huge as the rumors suggest."

"Aye, I would - but only if the elf here allows it," the ellon said in a fine imitation of the Lord of Aglarond's voice.

Legolas groaned - half with desire, half in resigned acceptance.

Éowyn had been correct - he'd been caught in the snare.


	3. Chapter 3

"I'd not expected to see you for several more months!" Éowyn embraced Legolas tightly in surprised delight. "You'll not be disappointed!"

The home she'd made with Faramir at Emyn Arnen smelled of fir trees and cinnamon, windows reflecting a thousand twinkling lights from the candles lit within.

She ushered him inside, and after his disquieted moods of the past months, he found her warm care so very welcome. His lovers in Ithilien had tried all they could think of to soothe him - but they just didn't seem to understand.

He suspected Éowyn would.

"My lord husband has not yet returned from Minas Tirith - but that shall not stop us from celebrating Yule!" She grabbed his hand - more exuberant than he'd ever remembered seeing her - and pulled him inside to join the festivities.

"It has been so very - boorish - so far," she whispered. "I am so glad you are here."

It didn't take her more than a day to see behind the falsity of his reciprocated joy.

And when he told her the truth of what had happened, she felt nothing but pity.

"My brother had told me he'd heard a vague rumor of this - yet I just didn't believe it."

"From Gimli's quill to my eyes," Legolas said, looking at the letter she was now re-reading. "Well - tell me what you think. Of that," and he gestured to the letter, "and of my apparently changing heart. You may say you told me so," he added with a faint smile.

"I'm not certain what would be best. It seems more - complicated - now. Not as much due to your changing feelings as this - courting?"

They were interrupted then, by the faint sound of carolers at the front door. "There are others here who can tend to them - unless you would like...?"

He shook his head, preferring they stay here, in her private study.

He found the crackling fire soothing, somehow.

She sighed, and then gazed at him with nothing but compassion. "I know what it is to be fearful of giving my heart, but look at my own joy. Surely it might be worth the risk to tell him the truth?"

They had both known the hurt of rejection, unrequited first love - but he knew this didn't mean the second outcome of his heart's song would be the same as hers.

"While events with Tauriel and Aragorn share their similarities, that of Gimli and Faramir are so very different.  He was clearly drawn to you - Gimli is drawn to many, but not in a serious way - has sworn himself to the caves, to his craft."

"Not so if he is allowing himself to be courted." She looked at him with the stern fire that had been borne in her eyes when she faced the Witch-King - and while there was no fear in her gaze now, he could clearly see her empathy for his own worry. "You are not one to back down from a battle - to lick your wounds and hide." And then she pondered what Gimli had told her back during the War. "You know as well as I that there is no exclusivity in the wooing of a dwarf, not until they've signed a contract."

Legolas looked at Éowyn as if seeing her all over again. And she smiled when she saw the not-subtle shifts in his posture and presence.

It wasn't something he and Gimli talked about - romancing and the like - neither of them having wanted to _go there_ before. "Are you certain he wasn't joking when he told you that - that most dwarves remain single not solely because of craft or lack of suitable partners, but often because it's too difficult to decide?  I've never seen a hint of that type of wooing on my visits to Aglarond."

"That, my keen-eyed friend, is because you probably don't know what to look for."

"And you would?" he asked, a twinkle in his eye.

"Certainly not - but surely there are those who _do_."

****

Thorin III Stonehelm hadn't expected a raven from Ithilien - it'd never happened before, at least that he knew.

He certainly hadn't expected a raven bearing a message - no, a request - for advice on wooing the Lord of Aglarond.

"Bloody hell, why doesn't he just _talk_ to Gimli! Why all of this _nonsense_?" and then, "Why is he asking _me_ , of all dwarves? I don't even _like_ the bloke!"

Dwalin snorted. "Bloody well can't expect him to back down from any kind of competition. Still don't see what Gimli sees in that elf."

"Pretty face, just like his father," Thorin III Stonehelm muttered. "This _is_ Gimli we're talking about."

"Bah." Dwalin waved his hand. "There's more to him than that.  Going to just tell Legolas to sod off?"

Thorin shook his head, drumming his fingers on the table they were sitting at. "As much as I'd rather see the alliance with the East forged more fully by marriage, I'm not going to stand in the way of the elf seeking his One. He knows nothing of dwarven courting - I can't sodding leave him at such a disadvantage. Nay, we'll level the playing field, and leave it to Gimli to decide."

Dwalin snorted again. "This, I have to see."

"Well, you just might. The elf doesn't realize that all of this is too bloody complicated to send via messenger raven. If I agree to this, I've a feeling his father will end up sending us steeds to travel to the south with all-haste."

" _Us_? Nay - _you_!" Dwalin doubled-over laughing, a sight that Thorin wasn't sure he'd ever seen before. " _You_ , riding one of the Elvenking's elk! Wouldn't dear Dáin have loved to see that!"

When Thorin simply glared at him - mostly in good humor - Dwalin resumed his typical gruff demeanor. "Send advice via raven - the elf awaits word. Time is a-wasting, as they say."

"Fuck. Alright, what should we bloody well tell him to do first? There are too many sodding choices - and I just don't think he'll _get_ it. He's an _elf_." He resumed his finger-tapping on the table.

"Is he, now?" Dwalin said, lifting an eyebrow. "Hadn't noticed," he deadpanned.

"Hmph, too much liquor for you tonight, I think - well, let's use it to our advantage. Give me some bloody suggestions."

"Aye, maybe he should try what my One did when courting me. Guaranteed success, if I bloody well say so myself. Though he's not nearly as appealing - so, maybe small chance of success, then. "

"Ah, tell me." Thorin made a mental note to imbibe more often with the esteemed warrior - there were many tales held under his gruff exterior, it seemed.

By the next afternoon, the message was ready to be relayed back to the Lord of Ithilien.


	4. Chapter 4

"You would have me send this to Gimli." Éomer couldn't take his eyes off of what he held in his hand - a small object held within a nondescript box. 

It wasn't that it was entrancing. Or even particularly nice to look at.

Perhaps the opposite, actually.

He pulled it out of the box, turning it over, viewing it from different angles - even still, he couldn't figure out what on Arda it _was_.

Of course, he knew better than to ask _again_ , well aware that Legolas wouldn't tell him - after all, he'd already inquired, and been told it was a dwarven secret.  


He apparently wasn't well aware of everything, however.  Legolas soon became impatient and snatched the object out of his hand, returning it to the box.

"This is an - interesting - courting gift."

"Indeed. Thorin Stonehelm's third suggestion."

A smiled curled upon the King's face, his eyes warm and playful. "And the first and second?"

Legolas sniffed, tilting his nose upward in the air. "Elbereth only knows the materials are too sensitive to produce anything of permanence."

"Ah. Well then," and the horse lord strode across his sitting room to his desk, snatching a quill and parchment and handing it over, "write a short note to accompany it, and I will have it delivered with all speed."

"No!" Legolas said firmly, dropping the parchment as though it were on fire. "It must be done secretly. Secrecy of dwarves, and the like."

"Pardon me?" For a moment, Éomer would have sworn the elf was making no sense. Or perhaps for more than a moment.

"No note."

"But how will he know that you've sent it to him, and not some other?"

"Because," Legolas said smugly, folding his arms across his chest, "part of this - courting - is him figuring it out."

"By asking my messenger, then. Or even myself." A scavenger hunt of sorts, then.

Legolas shook his head, almost smirking, utterly pleased that he understood dwarven courting customs so much more thoroughly than the mannish King who lived so close to their satellite realm.  "No, that's not allowed."

Éomer returned to his study of the - object, whatever in Eru's name it was. "There is a secret message embedded in this, then? Some sign of you, like a signature?"  


Even more pleased, Legolas shook his head once more. "No - part of the point is to make it as difficult to track back to me as possible. Yet if he is cunning enough, which he surely is -"

"Ah," Éomer replied, entirely confused. He'd already asked why Legolas wouldn't just speak to Gimli of his feelings - but the elf had simply stared at him as if he'd turned into an orc. "Well then, off with this, and we'll see what happens."

"Indeed. Now then, can you lead me to your kitchens? I'd like to complete the fourth item on the list today."

"Which is -" and at Legolas' frown, he refrained. "Don't tell me, secrets and all that."

Delivery instructions made, Éomer-King then personally escorted Legolas to Edoras' kitchens.

****

"Lord Gimli. Lord Gimli!" The dwarrow councilor burst into the Lord of Aglarond's chambers. "This has just arrived for you."

Gimli's eyes widened. He forgave the intrusion, wondering if the dwarf bore Legolas' response to his letter, for he had begun to ponder why a response hadn't been made as of yet - and had asked for it to be delivered promptly should it arrive.

Legolas most likely thought such a response wasn't necessary, Gimli knew. The Lord of Aglarond had taken great care to be kind and thoughtful in what he had written to his Ithilien counterpart - perhaps the elf simply decided there was nothing left to say, that they would simply return to being only friends.

Gimli knew that he would miss the benefits.

Or perhaps the elf simply hadn't gotten around to it yet. Mahal only knew that Legolas could be a bit - flighty.  This certainly wouldn't be the first time that he postponed - or forgot - to write back. 

But what if Legolas was upset by his news, if he -

Thoughts of Legolas fled when he laid eyes upon what the dwarf had actually brought to him. "From whom?" he asked, no other words needed.

"The Rohirrim, my Lord."

"Ah," he said, uncertain how to respond further, his face a puzzle.

"One of them fancies you, my Lord," the dwarf provided helpfully. He puffed out his chest, quite pleased that one of the mannish folk nearby had finally acted upon their obvious attraction to his Lord. "Heard of your courtship with the Lady, and decided to fight for your hand."

"Or forge an alliance with us, as the East would deem to. Thank you - I will study this alone."

"Of course." The dwarrow bowed, and swiftly left the room.

It was a traditional courting box - but clearly not crafted by a dwarf.

Inside - well, the contents were clearly not crafted by a dwarf either, or any other that had skill with materials of the earth.

If he didn't know better, he would think it was crafted by -

but no, that couldn't be, it couldn't be him.

Or was it?

"Lord Gimli?"

The voice wafted towards him, and he snapped the box shut.

What was it with dwarves bursting into his rooms unannounced? _As though all manners had been forgotten - Durin grant me patience_ , he muttered under his breath, but his ire fled when he saw it was Lady Halda.

He'd given her permission to enter his rooms - one of the few who had such permission - when she'd formally begun courting him.

"I have some competition, it seems," she said as she saw the courting box, her face a mixture of bemusement and - excitement.

And then she became solemn as she considered the matter further. "I would not interfere with One - tell me, have you -"

Gimli interrupted her with a firm shake of his head. 'I do not know who this is from, but as I've said before, I have no One."

"Indeed." As they had courted, she'd wondered at times if this was indeed the truth - yet it had to be, with all of his firm denials. She really should stop asking, this she knew, even if it was infrequently.

"Dinner?" he asked, holding out his arm.

"Absolutely," she said with a smile, hooking her arm with his. "I've had a picnic prepared for us, to dine alone by the stream in my favorite cave."

"Aye, that sounds perfect." He moved to place the box in a drawer.

"No, you need not do that," Halda said. "I would not break tradition - if someone seeks your hand, let them. Determine who it is, and decide."

"Nay, I would not -"

"I insist. We must do this properly. Besides, I greatly enjoy competition."

The twinkle in her eye reminded him of another, one with flaxen hair and eyes of sapphire - and for a moment, a strange, fierce hope flared that it had been _that_ other who had sent the box.

****

The picnic was a delight, and when Gimli finally returned to his rooms, he knew - yet again - this match wasn't a bad one.

In fact, he could see himself growing to love her over time - and she him.

Neither was ready to commit any further - not yet - but that was entirely to be expected.

Yet that was not the only matter of courting he needed to consider this eve. There was also this - other - item to attend to.

He pulled out the box, and studied the object inside.

Hours passed as he pondered, an answer growing in his mind, yet the question remained.

Three more courting gifts arrived, one after another on sequential days, each borne by the Rohirrim.

He studied those for three days more, and came to his conclusion.

He crafted his own response to the one he'd determined to be the sender, and sent it that very next morning.

****

Legolas paused his archery instruction as he saw Éomer approach on horseback with all speed.

His heart fluttered - he'd not expected a response quite so quickly!

But then his wide, excited smile turned to a frown when he saw Éomer's gloomy expression.

"I'll be right back," he said to the archers whose skills he was helping to hone even further, "continue to practice as I had shown you."

They nodded, resuming their training as Legolas strode away from the archery range, his apprehension growing.

Clearly Éomer did not bear good news.

"This!" Éomer said, furiously waving a piece of parchment in his hand. "This!"

"What is it?" Legolas asked. "A declaration of war? A broken treaty? What news do you have?"

"No! It's Gimli - this is his very kind and sweet _denial_ of _my_ attempt to court him!"

Yet Éomer could not maintain his ire for long, not at the sight of Legolas' confusion. "Worry not, my friend - let's sort this out in person, and -"

"No!" Legolas' confusion fled, replaced with fright. "It simply isn't done!"

Éomer turned away, rolling his eyes as he paced and pondered. "Well," he soon said, "let's call for the dwarves to assist you in person."

"Nay, they are so far away - and busy - we can simply send another message -" yet Legolas simply didn't understand, certain as he was that he'd followed Thorin's directions perfectly...

"No," Éomer replied. "I insist. I would not have _this_ ," and he waved the parchment once more, "happen again. Remember, time speeds past, and another is courting him as we speak - one whom he _knows_ the identity of."

"Indeed," Legolas muttered. "Indeed," he said again, more firmly, his eyes blazing.


End file.
